


Casualty of Speech

by Fulcrumisthebomb



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:52:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1318795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/pseuds/Fulcrumisthebomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perceptor says something he shouldn't in the throes of passion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casualty of Speech

Perceptor's back dipped, angling his aft up sharply as he lowered his helm to the floor. His hands scraped uselessly, pawing for any hold as his frame was rhythmically shoved back and forth, Drift's slow, powerful thrusts just enough to keep him on the edge and not tip over. Slurred obscenities filled the gaps between his desperate pleas for relief, begging for more, harder, faster, something,  _anything, mercy!_

All movement ceased, Drift's hand frozen on his spike and their hips flush together.

Perceptor whimpered in confusion, teetering so close to overload he could barely register the sudden lack of stimulation. Venting harshly, he twisted to look up at Drift, surprised by the outraged shock bleeding through their mingled fields.

"Drift?" he asked softly, clumsily reaching around to touch a curved thigh. To his astonishment, Drift twitched and evaded, swiftly withdrawing from Perceptor's aching valve. 

"Don't you _ever,_ " Drift hissed, glaring angrily down at his partner, "call me that again."

"What?!" Perceptor swiveled, crawling toward the kneeling mech, alarmed when Drift stood and moved further away. "Drift, what- what did I say? I don't-,"

Drift's optics were dimly haunted as he righted himself, ignoring Perceptor's protests as he quickly unlocked the door and slipped out of sight. Perceptor sat in the middle of the suite, damp and uncomfortable as he played back what he could remember of the last few kliks. It was all fairly standard; Drift had long ago shyly admitted he liked the begging, and Perceptor was only too happy to oblige. They both enjoyed playing a more dominant role occasionally, and after Drift had wrestled him to the floor this time, it felt completely natural to let Drift lead and submit to his whims.

Nothing was out of the ordinary, except-

_Yes frag me ha-harder, own me, Deadlock, please-!_

_Don't you_  ever _call me that again._

Oh holy Primus below.

Perceptor shivered as he leaned back against the side of the berth, shuttering his optic. Why had he said  _that?_  He never thought of Drift by his original designation; why had that slipped out? Drift was not his past, as he'd made clear on numerous occasions, and to blithely spill that name... while they were...

Perceptor shoved himself to his pedes, hurriedly cleaning himself off before racing out of the room.

\-----------------

"It's not your fault."

Perceptor slumped forward onto the desk, frowning at Rung's gentle expression. " _Of course_  it's my fault. You did listen to the chain of events, didn't you? Drift has been avoiding me since... the incident. I drove him away with my carelessness."

"My audials are in perfect working condition," Rung replied softly. "But the issue here lies much deeper than a mere accident on your part. As unsavoury as it must have been to hear that designation, especially in that situation, it should not have caused such a violent emotional shutdown." Rung sighed, leaning forward as his voice dropped to a low tone. "You are emotionally invested in Drift?"

"Yes," Perceptor replied immediately. 

"Then yours is not a casual relationship?"

"No." Perceptor shook his head, mouth set in a firm line. "It can be difficult to grasp what Drift truly desires, but he's been very clear from the beginning he wanted more than a brief liaison. We have negotiated a few boundaries for the partnership, and independently announced our intentions for this to be longterm to others."

"Excellent, then you will be able to help him, Perceptor." Rung's smile widened encouragingly. "He will need your assistance, and yours alone, to move past this mental block."

"What mental block?"

Rung hesitated, gaze sliding to the side before replying. "I am loathe to disclose personal information of any patient, but you must understand this is a very specific case. The information I give you is only to be used to assist Drift, never to manipulate, guilt, or harm."

"I would never!" Perceptor protested, then huffed as he nodded. "I do not care for your insinuations, but I understand them readily enough."

Rung blinked up at him, the smile returning. "And I am very appreciative of your understanding. Now, Drift is exceptional at  _appearing_ to function on a normal level, but is also cursed- or blessed- with the ability to emote everything that runs through his processors. If you know how to look, it is easy to see classical symptoms of intense denial. We are all fortunate that Drift no longer expunges his negative view of himself through repeated violence, but denial is just as destructive- to himself, not to others."

"I do not see anything necessarily wrong with him leaving his past behind him."

"Neither do I," Rung nodded. "His actions clearly indicate he has not made peace with his past. Rather, he has buried them, locked them away where the memories and emotions will build, layer upon each other until Drift becomes a walking bomb. Metaphorically speaking."

Perceptor listened with growing apprehension; he could see the map Rung was illustrating in his head, connecting the dots faster than Rung explained. "Then the stress he carries needs to be released slowly to avoid such a confrontation."

"Yes, exactly!" Rung said happily. "And you will help him do that. I warn you; he won't want to. Drift may fight you the entire way, once he knows what you're uncovering. This must be done slowly, as you said, and most importantly  _under Drift's complete control_. He buries what he cannot resolve within himself; you must lead him through a series of smaller puzzles he  _can_  solve."

Perceptor frowned, hands fidgeting in his lap. He understood the concept Rung was outlining, but couldn't think of a practical way to apply it.

"Roleplay," Rung supplied on cue.

\-----------------

It took three promises, four bribes and a rather strange request for a stiff hug from Brainstorm to locate Drift. That was the easiest step of Perceptor's plan; what came next could be civil or violent, depending on Drift's reactions. Projecting confidence, even if Perceptor was a bit shaky on it, was extremely important, Rung had warned.

Squaring his shoulders, he knocked on Whirl's door, his helm tilted slightly in a show of nonaggression. He should've guessed Drift would seek haven from another former Wrecker, though he couldn't imagine Drift being able to stand Whirl's chaotic behavior when he was so upset himself. 

The door hissed open and Whirl huffed, waving a claw in defeat. "Took your time getting here. Not as smart as you look, huh?"

Movement in the shadows behind Whirl caught Perceptor's attention. "Ten kliks, Drift. If you don't like what I have to say, then I will leave."

"Good lu~uck," Whirl sang as he skipped out past him, tossing a leer over his shoulder. Perceptor stepped in, closing the door behind him and leaving it pointedly unlocked. It was bad enough Drift would feel cornered by the emotional space as well as physical.

Drift was leaning in a corner, arms crossed defensively, helm bowed to hide his optics. Perceptor remained by the door, folding his hands behind his back as he waited. 

The silence stretched uncomfortably. Still, Perceptor remained calm, wanting to ensure Drift had control of the conversation. Finally-

"It's not you," Drift murmured. "It's me."

"This exists between us," Perceptor replied quietly. "It involves both of us. However, I still wish to apologise for my egregious breach in-,"

"Already forgave you," Drift interrupted, shoulders hunching further. "It's- It's. My problem."

"Our problem," Perceptor corrected gently. "Drift, you need to learn to forgive yourself."

Drift's helm snapped up, gaze heavy and dark with emotion. "I will not become complacent. If I forgive what I- I was, then I run the risk of becoming  _him_ again." 

"Deadlock?"

"Don't!" Drift snapped, crossing the room swiftly and gripping Perceptor's arm painfully. " _Don't,_ Percy. Don't go there."

Perceptor sighed, reaching up to cup Drift's face in one palm. "If I don't, who will? You cannot live as half a person, Drift. As difficult as it is to accept- and I will help you through it, as much as you will allow me- Deadlock is  _you_. Drift is  _you_. You are in control of yourself, who you choose to be. You've already proven this!"

"I cannot be him," Drift growled, shaking Perceptor lightly. 

"Then don't be, but don't act like he never existed," Perceptor whispered. "You can find a compromise somewhere inbetween."

"Not when just that name made me-," Drift's voice hitched, wincing as he turned away. "I didn't run because I was angry at you. I'm not, Percy. Honest."

"You're angry at yourself."

"Yes," Drift snarled, hugging his arms to his chassis. "Because when you said that, I- I wanted to- show you what 'Deadlock' actually means." His optics shuttered, fields tainted with shame. "I wanted to shove you down, make you scream, make you  _bleed_."

Perceptor nodded; Rung had said Drift likely had a violent internal reaction. "But you didn't."

"But I  _wanted_  to!" Drift yelled, gripping the edge of the berth and fisting his hands on the edge hard enough to dent. "I wanted to  _hurt_  you, Percy! I wanted to tear into you, I didn't want to care if you wanted it or not!"

"But you didn't," Perceptor repeated, curling an arm around Drift's waist as he leaned his head onto a shoulder spaulder. "Some of those feelings you're describing are perfectly healthy with a consensual partner, Drift. They do not have to be solely associated with Deadlock."

"I would  _never_  hurt you," Drift hissed.

"I know, and that's why I trust you." Perceptor moved closer, their hips brushing. "I trust you, Drift. I trust you to use Deadlock's passions for good. For you, for us."

"I can't," Drift shuddered, bowing his helm. 

"You control yourself; therefore, you control Deadlock," Perceptor continued, tentatively nuzzling the crook of Drift's neck. "And I would enjoy creating a safe space where we can safely explore your limits. If we don't, you will  _never_ feel in control."

Another silence, less anxious this time.

"What do you s-suggest?" Drift turned in Perceptor's hold, gripping his sides to steady himself. 

"Roleplay," Perceptor smiled. "I am not adverse to being dominated. If you still wish to associate rougher play with Deadlock, then we will explore that-,"

"No!" Drift gasped, horrified.

"We will explore that  _within_  agreed-upon limits," Perceptor urged. "If you need to use Deadlock as an outlet for aggression, I would be more than happy to be the recipient. Hold me down, dictate my actions, bind me, use me, control me." He shrugged, relieved that Drift didn't immediately recoil at the suggestion. "I distinctly remember asking for those very things the times when you pin me to the floor."

"I... Yes." Drift's optics narrowed. "I remain unconvinced, Percy."

"We'll start slow, small." Perceptor leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to Drift's mouth. " _You_  will not hurt me. Thus,  _Deadlock_ will not hurt me."

Drift finally went limp in his embrace, burying his face against warm metal. Perceptor's optics slid closed, his own well of anxiety lessened by the relatively peaceful exchange. 

"Percy?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm- scared."

"I know." Perceptor stroked a finial, pleased when Drift's engine revved in response. "I'm here, Drift, for whatever you need."

**Author's Note:**

> Why can't I find fics where someone helps Drift resolve issues with his past in a healthy manner???


End file.
